Dragonriders, Part 1
by MrsChurch
Summary: Future fic, totally Gen. A potion, ruined, but not destroyed, by a fool throwing a book into it. An empathic Albus Potter. And 32 newly minted dragon eggs. The wizarding world will never be the same. Chapter 5 is up!
1. The Potion

**Dragonriders, Part 1**  
Chapter 1, The Potion

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. The Dragonriders of Pern belong to Anne McCaffery. No copyright infringement is intended and no money has changed hands._

_Author's Note: Wow. Where did this one come from? I'm really not sure. But I think I like it. I've been lurking under this pen name for a while, working on stories under another one (and no you may not know what it is) but I thought it was about time to use this account for something other than a place holder for my current favorites list, and when this story popped into my head, I thought it was the perfect place to start. Enjoy, and hopefully review. Flamers will be blocked, so if you have nothing nice or constructive to say, go away. Though I don't really think this one is flame-worthy anyway._

* * *

Albus Severus Potter was working on his Potions final for sixth year, a complicated and ridiculously advanced fertility potion that was sure to earn him top marks from Professor Schwinn. It was called Woman's Blossom, and it was among the strongest fertility aids out there. He'd collected his own ingredients,including mail-ordering thirty-two fertile butterfly lizard eggs, and now the potion was less than an hour from completion. He dropped in the lizard eggs one at a time, taking care not to break any. Yolk loose in the potion would ruin it. The potion didn't change color yet, but after forty-five minutes it would become a brilliant yellow and it would be done.

Albus was like his father in many ways. They were both kind and assertive boys and very protective of their friends. Neither would allow an insult to ruin their day. But unlike Harry Potter, his father, Albus loved potions, and he was trying to become a professional Potions Master. His Uncle George kept trying to recruit him into the family pranking business, but Albus wanted to strike out on his own rather than hang on anyone else's coat tails.

He sat back to wait for fifteen minutes, which was when he would have to stir the cauldron, and pulled out a book he'd been reading. He set his clock alarm and opened the book to his place marker in Dragonsdawn, by Anne McCaffrey. Then things started to go wrong.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was legendary, and some things never changed. Cord Zabini and Gerald Nott, two Slytherins, had decided that Albus was their perfect target, and in their younger years, it really had been easy to pick on him. He'd grown a thicker skin since, and he was usually able to diffuse them with his empathic gift, but engrossed in his book, he didn't see them coming until it was too late.

Zabini took the book out of Albus's hands. "What have we here, Potter?" He turned it over so that he could read the front cover. "Dragonsdawn? Those don't look like real dragons, do they? Tiny little things. And this picture isn't even moving! Reading Muggle fiction, are we? Isn't that beneath even you, Potter?"

Taking a peek at the clock and seeing that he only had a minute before he had to stir the cauldron anyway, he shook his head and stood up. "Why does it matter? It's a good story." He walked over to his work station and picked up the sterling silver spoon to stir once the alarm went off.

Zabini glared at Potter. It was so hard to get him these days, ever since fourth year, when Scorpius Malfoy had started becoming friends with him. How Scorpius could stand the shame of it, Zabini didn't know, but apparently there was some kind of history between the Potters and the Malfoys that allowed it. And Potter had the gall to be good at potions, as well! He smirked. He could do something about that. He tossed the book while Albus's attention was on the potion recipe, knowing that it would be his only chance. Albus was as good a Seeker as his father. But Zabini was a hell of a Beater, and the book landed in the cauldron!

Albus Potter was a fair-skinned person, but when he saw the novel sinking in the cauldron he paled horribly. He whispered, "You fool!" Wary of what could be happening inside the now-ruined potion, Albus looked inside the cauldron. The paperback was not dissolving, as he had at first feared it would. Instead, the words were un-sticking themselves from the pages, line by line, and they were dissolving into the potion, which was quickly turning a murky gray that would soon be ink black. "Run."

Worried, Zabini said, "Why? Is it going to explode?"

"No. Because I'm going to kill you if you don't get out of here. Now!" He wouldn't tell Zabini why exactly he didn't want him in here, but something in his face must have been sufficient. The two Slytherins left the lab. Albus could see the lizard eggs starting to swell, and he had a funny feeling about that. "Guney!"

The house elf, a long-time friend of Harry's who had quickly attached himself to Harry's sons and daughter, popped into the room. "Guney is here, Albus Potter. What can Guney be doing for Mister Potter, sir?"

"I need you to get Professor Schwinn, the Head Mistress and Hagrid. This is really important. Tell them that there's been a potions accident in here and that I need their help."

Guney nodded and popped out of the room.

Albus stared at the cauldron while it continued to work. It wasn't a hot potion, so it wasn't on a fire. He couldn't stop the process by removing it from the heat. And he was really afraid that it was too late to stop it. The eggs were absorbing the ink instead of the potion. And Albus knew that something which had never happened before was going on in that cauldron. He knew it because he could feel it.

Albus was an empath, which normally meant that he could sense and manipulate emotions. He'd had to learn how to erect mental shields around his mind so that those emotions didn't overwhelm him, but he'd learned from an old family friend long before coming to school at Hogwarts. He'd also learned control so that he didn't inadvertently mess with anyone's minds or manipulate people with his gift. But right now, he was feeling nascent emotions from the eggs in the cauldron, and they were swelling up. Something very magical was happening in there, and somehow it was connecting to his gift.

The eggs soon got too big for the cauldron. Albus wasn't sure how his gift would react to the eggs being harmed since they were now alive, so he thought quickly how to save them. He took out his wand and started levitating them out of the cauldron and onto cushions that he transfigured out of the classroom desks. All thirty-two were out of the potion and sitting on cushions by the time the professors got there.

Professor McGonagall was first to respond to the sight that met them when they entered the potions lab. "Good heavens! What has gone on in here, Mr. Potter?"

Albus looked up at her from the dais, where he was sitting and watching the eggs as they continued to expand. "I was working on my final, Woman's Blossom, when a couple of students that don't really like me came in here. The potion was in the final stage, the butterfly lizard eggs were in and coming up on their first stir. He was taunting me about the book I was reading to pass the time in between stages, for it being Muggle fiction. I was trying to ignore him, and it was almost time to stir the cauldron anyway. I looked at the recipe to double check myself and while my attention was diverted, he tossed my book into the cauldron."

"I see. And this was the result?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm not really sure what to do. I don't want to kill them, you see, not if what I suspect about these eggs is true. But—" He sighed, not quite knowing how to put his thoughts about this into words.

Professor Schwinn asked him, "What do you suspect, Mr. Potter?"

"I saw the words dissolve into the eggs, not the potion. And I've read that book probably twenty times. It has an empathic signature. I don't think I'll get individual characters from the book, but the species? That, I'm almost sure of."

Hagrid asked the next obvious question. "Wot species is tha'?"

"The Pernese Dragon."

Hagrid said, "I ain't never heard o' tha' one."

Albus smiled, knowing well how Hagrid loved dragons. That was one of the reasons he had wanted the half-giant to be a part of this gathering of teachers. "That's because it's the invention of a Muggle author's mind. They aren't real, or they weren't until this happened."

Professor Schwinn nodded slightly. "You believe that the dragons in the story will hatch out of these eggs?" Albus agreed. "You know that dragon breeding is illegal."

"Yes. That's why I had Guney get all of you as soon as it happened. The Ministry will try to destroy these eggs, or have them sent to a preserve. But if they are exactly as they were written, and I don't see any reason why they would not be, all that would serve to do is destroy thirty-two sentient dragon children. These dragons are not like natural dragons at all. Even in the story, they were engineered from a much smaller and less intelligent creature in order to help fight a mindless enemy known as Thread. They were made to need humans throughout their lives. People take the place of the mother, feeding the hatchlings, bathing them, oiling their skins when they start to develop dry patches. In turn, those humans who take on the task are bound to that individual dragon for the rest of their lives. They never want again for love or friendship with a dragon in their minds."

"In their minds?"

"Yes. It's an empathic and telepathic relationship."

Professor McGonagall looked down into the cauldron where the accident had taken place. "The book is actually still in there." Albus took a set of long-handled silver tongs and donned his dragon-hide gloves before reaching into the cauldron with the tongs and pulling out the soggy remains of the book. The front and back covers were still intact, but all the pages within the book were now blank, soggy pulp paper. McGonagall looked at the image on the front. "Those are the original creatures?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a picture of what these dragons will look like?"

"Yeah, I do. But I don't have the other books with me. They're in my trunk."

Hagrid asked excitedly, "'Ow big d' they ge'?"

Albus grinned. "They're not all that big, really, not compared to natural dragons. These are first generation, so they won't be much bigger than horses full grown." Albus then thought about that. "Oy. What are we going to do with them? Where in the world are we going to find a place to start a Weyr here on earth?"

That was when James and Lily got to the room. Seeing the eggs that were occupying the room, James just started laughing. Lily smiled, far more kindly, and said, "You always told me that anywhere a dragon calls home is a Weyr. I'm sure you'll figure something out, brother mine."

Albus glared at his siblings. "I guess I'd better write Mum and Dad before you two do it for me. I'd hate to see what you'd tell them."

McGonagall took control of the conversation back. "Who was it that threw the book into your potion, Mr. Potter?"

Albus pursed his lips. "I don't think this was what they meant to happen, Professor. They were just trying to—"

"Ruin your final?" Albus looked down. He hadn't really wanted to get those two idiots into trouble. He just needed help in dealing with the aftermath. "I want to know who it was, Albus. They need to know just how serious this could have been, that instead of creating life, they could have taken it."

"Cord Zabini threw in the book. Gerald Nott just watched and laughed."

"All right. Now, how do we take care of these eggs and how do we safely get them out of the dungeons?"

* * *

_Well? Tell me what you think!_


	2. Letters

**Dragonriders, Part 1**  
Chapter 2, Letters

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. The Dragonriders of Pern belong to Anne McCaffery. No copyright infringement is intended and no money has changed hands._

Author's Note: I forgot to mention this last time. The date this story began is April 5th, 2016. James is a 7th year, Albus is a 6th year and Lily is a 4th year. Also, though I mention Lady McCafferey as the author of the Dragonriders of Pern, I will not be featuring her as a character. I'm pretty sure that it's against the rules of the site, and I have no way of asking her for permission, so I will not put her in the story. Anyone that this happened to in real life (though none of it is actually possible) would invite her to the Hatching, and I honestly thought about letting Albus do exactly that, but I just don't think it's advisable.

* * *

Albus stayed with the eggs throughout that night and the next day, listening intently to the growing embryos within them through his gift. He insisted that it was necessary because they didn't know the exact needs of the eggs, what exact temperatures they needed to be kept at, if they might need to be turned at all, and during this first couple of days, he really needed to be there for them, ensuring that they had the best environment to grow in. The professors closed down that potions lab, Lab 4, temporarily, and set Albus up in the room as if it were his dorm room. Since it was the weekend, it wasn't interfering with his classes any, so it wasn't too hard to convince them to allow it, provided he held to school rules and stayed in the lab at night.

Lily visited him before curfew. "You know, I've heard rumors of how much trouble Dad, Uncle Ron and Aunt 'Mione used to get into when they were in school."

"Lils, please."

"I know, Al. But this is insane. You can't handle all this by yourself!"

"I didn't plan on it. I'm just not sure who to bring in yet. We've got to get maybe sixty candidates together who have at least some mental magic, we've got to build a Hatching Ground, we need to find a Weyr, and somehow, we've got to keep the Ministry from trying to kill them off before they've even had a chance to live."

Albus slumped in his chair. Lily could tell that he was worried. "When are you going to write home?"

"Tonight." He sat up. "Actually, you've given me an idea. I'll write Aunt 'Mione, too. She's great at organizing for causes, and she's really unstoppable when you sic her on the Ministry. Goblins, werewolves, house elves, centaurs; you name it, she's championed it."

Lily grinned. "Now you're talking. Alright, I've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower before I get in trouble."

With his sister gone, Albus began writing. He wrote the letters first so that he could send them out with the morning mail. Then he began recording his scientific and empathic observations of the eggs, including annotating the exact series of events which had caused the birth of the eggs. He wrote down what he knew about Pernese dragons, how they produced flame, their life cycles and their dependence on humans. He knew, for instance, that the first generation dragons would only be about as big as a draft horse when full grown, but that within a hundred dragon generations, or three hundred years, they would reach a maximum size of about thirty-five feet long, nose to tip. Ramoth, Mnementh and Canth were anomalies, coming from a genetic bottleneck that occurred when the other five Weyrs went forward. Ramoth was about forty-five feet long.

Albus knew that he was going to have a lot of writing in his future. He'd be writing book after book on the realities of raising and living with dragons, as well as Weyr life andMerlin! He was going to end up making a career out of this! He grinned at himself. This was all contingent, of course, on whether or not he Impressed. That was a big assumption, he supposed. Just because he was hanging out with the eggs right now didn't mean that one of the dragonettes would find him suitable. But Albus hoped, however, that the future dragonriders would allow him to be a part of the dragons' lives. There was no reason to do every single thing the way Madame McCaffrey had written it in her novels, because they didn't have Thread to contend with, and because they were wizards. Having non-riders in the Weyr shouldn't be a problem.

As he lay on his bed, he thought about his life and the many changes that had already been made in it. He'd been born an empath, of course, but when he was twelve, that gift had flared into full power, leaving him an emotional wreck until he'd learned to control it. None of his family had been able to help him through the transition, because they didn't have the gift, but he'd been lucky enough to find a teacher in Cor Cordis, a famous professional empath who was often used at Auror interrogations as a lie detector when Veritaserum had not yet been approved. He'd taught him both control and the ethical use of his gift.

Albus had learned then, for the first time, that he was not exactly like his father. He'd been surprised and dismayed at the attention he got first year because of Harry Potter, and his parents'd had to console him and help him through the ridicule and the fan worship. His brother had stood up for him many times, but then he'd learned how to stand up for himself. And then there came his empathic ability, further separating him from his father in the minds of the public. School had become easier, because no one was fawning on him or harassing him. He'd made good and steadfast friends in Scorpius Malfoy from Slytherin and Amelio Bones from Hufflepuff. If people thought it was strange for a Gryffindor to be chumming with both a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff, they had enough sense not to say so in front of the trio.

As he drifted off to sleep, Albus couldn't help but hope that he would be able to Impress a dragon. To know, bone deep, that he would never be alone, never lack for a loyal and trusted friend; that would be the greatest thing in the world!

* * *

First thing in the morning, Lily brought Humphrey, the owl that all three of Harry Potter's children used, and Albus sent off the letters to their Dad and Aunt Hermione. Hagrid soon followed, because they needed to plan out a Hatching Ground. The eggs needed a constant temperature, Albus discovered, of 180?F, so the sands would need to be at least that warm, probably 185?F. The Ground would need to be protected from breezes and from view, and it would need to be able to hold not only the eggs, but also the sixty or so candidates for Impression that they would need to give the new dragons a decent choice. And by the time the eggs hatched, they would need quarters for thirty-two dragons and riders, a consistent supply of fresh meat to feed them, hide for saddles, straps and riding gear, and a space for all those things to fit into that could later grow into a full-fledged Weyr. Then they would have to figure out how to produce firestone.

Albus set a warming charm on the entire room so that constant temperature would be maintained, and then he left with Hagrid to begin building the temporary Hatching Ground. Scorpius and Amelio found him in the quickly rising building, transfiguring pumpkin seeds into walls. Scorpius was the first to say anything. "Where have you been, Potter? You didn't get into trouble without us, did you?"

Albus grinned. "A bit, but it was Zabini's fault, not mine. I was just working on my Potions final so I could take the NEWT early. He threw my book into the thing and it took the information contained in the book for the genetic information it was meant to read. Now I've got thirty two dragon eggs that need a good place to Hatch."

Amelio frowned. "Dragons? What kind of dragons were you reading about?"

"The kind that Anne McCafferey wrote about. She invented them for her novels."

Both boys stared at their friend. Scorpius shook his head. "Your potion produced creatures from a fictional work? Are you sure that's what they are? I mean, have you had them looked at?"

"Not yet. I wanted to get the Hatching Ground finished first. But I" Albus paused. Did he want to tell them why he was so sure? They had certainly stood by him through the mess that his father's fame and his emotional empathic bursts had caused him. That decided him. "I'm sure. I can feel them, even at this early stage, just like I can feel Mom's new baby. I can't feel an unborn creature that doesn't have a mind of its own. I couldn't feel the dragon eggs that I saw when I visited Uncle Charlie in Romania, and they were Hungarian Horntail eggs. Horntails are really a lot smarter than most other dragon breeds. I felt them the moment they began to develop in the cauldron. These dragons are definitely beings, not creatures."

Amelio looked at the structure Albus was building. Three of the exterior walls of the hexagonal building were built, and no other work had yet been done. "This is your 'Hatching Ground'?"

"Yeah. Once the walls are up, there are several things that still need doing. I need a base that will remain hot until I turn it off, with sand on top to cushion the eggs. Then I need a place for people to stand about when it's time for the Hatching, and an office to coordinate bringing Candidates in for Impression. I'm thinking about sixty or so."

Amelio shook his head. "That's quite a load. Need some help?"

"I'd love some."

* * *

Harry was pretending to read the morning Quibbler while he drank his first cup of coffee, but he was really watching his wife as she moved around the kitchen making breakfast. She was pregnant with their fourth child, a girl they had decided to name Winifred Dora , and it was one of his favorite things to do in his life, watching Ginny while she was carrying his child. It gave him a sense of pride and well being that he'd never had growing up, because it meant he had a loving family, and that it was growing.

Of course, she was also very beautiful when she was pregnant, and watching her was his favorite past time under any circumstances!

His attention was then diverted as Humfrey, the snowy owl that belonged to James, Albus and Lily, flew in the opened window, dropped a letter beside his plate, and then landed on his perch. Another owl, this one a barn owl, followed, but merely deposited his burden and left. The first letter was from Albus. The second was from Professor McGonagall. Frowning, Harry opened McGonagall's letter fist. His younger son was rarely in trouble at school, so he wondered what could have prompted contact from the Headmistress. Her familiar scrawl briefly threw him back to his own days at Hogwarts, but then he settled down to read the letter.

_Mr. Potter,_

Please don't be alarmed at this owl. Your son is in no trouble for anything he has done. That said, he has gotten himself into a bit of a spot, and thought I know he plans to write you, I felt it best if I wrote as well.

As you know, Albus was trying to complete his NEWT year in Potions this year so that he would have extra study time for those courses in which he is not quite so gifted. however, his class final, which he had to complete before he would qualify for the advanced placement, was sabotaged in its final stages. The saboteur has been given a month's detention with Mr. Filch. As for what exactly happened, I leave that story for Albus to tell you.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress

Harry raised an eyebrow at the letter, not sure what to think. He passed it to Ginny while he opened and read Albus's letter.

_Dad and Mum,_

Something's happened here at school that's both bad and good. My Potions final was sabotaged by Cord Zabini, so I won't be able to finish early like I'd planned. But it's not what he did, but how he did it that has caused what I need to talk to you both about.

Do you remember those books Aunt 'Mione gave me for Christmas four years ago? The Dragonriders of Pern series? I was reading one of them during the simmering time, and when I wasn't looking Zabini threw it into the cauldron. The long and the short of it is that now we've got thirty-two Pernese dragon eggs hardening in a temperature-controlled lab until Hagrid and I can get the Hatching Ground built.

I've written to Aunt 'Mione, too, since she's basically the family solicitor. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures won't understand, at least not immediately, that these aren't magical creatures, but magically created beings, and I know no one better than Hermione Weasley to get it through their skulls. After she reams me for being so incautious, anyway.

Do you remember when I was able to sense Mum's new baby and I congratulated you both before you could actually break the news? Something similar happened here. I know that these eggs contain beings who are capable of self awareness, but what I don't know is if they'll believe me. If they don't, they'll end up killing the dragonettes, either because they send them to some preserve, where they'll have no one to Impress on their Hatching, or because they destroy them outright.

I'm asking for advice, but I'm not asking for you and Mum to swoop in. I know, Dad, that you'll want to, but I'm only two months from being seventeen. I'm going to try and do this mostly on my own. Oh, I know enough to ask for Aunt 'Mione's legal services, and I'll be needing money soon to feed the dragonettes. I may end up asking for money to buy property and cattle, as well. But I don't want your fame to color things in the public view. I love you both, but we all know how weird the public can get.

Scorpius probably thinks I'm daft for that, but it's how I feel.

I'm telling Humfrey to wait for your response. I could really use your advice, here.

Love,

Albus

Harry sat back, a bit shocked. Dragons with minds, born out of a Potions accident, and entangled with his younger son's heart, and the boy didn't want him coming to Hogwarts to help out? Ginny looked at him after reading Albus's letter for herself. "Merlin, Harry. He inherited more than your looks, didn't he!"

Harry chuckled. "Like my trouble magnet?" Then he frowned. "Not to mention my sense of independence."

Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled indulgently at her husband. "Yeah, shocking, that." She took his hand when he reached for the coffee cup that was quickly cooling on its saucer. "And you have to let him use that, too. He needs us, love, but he doesn't need us there."

Harry looked at her hand over his and sighed, knowing she was right. He remembered all too well his frustration when everyone was deciding without consulting him what was best for him. It hadn't mattered to him whether or not they were correct, only that they didn't think enough of him to let him do what was right on his own. He nodded. "I know. Let me get a quill and some parchment." 


	3. The DRCMC

Dragonriders, Part 1

Chapter 3, The Department For the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 1._

_Author's Note: For those who don't already know, a weyr is anywhere a dragon lives. A Weyr is a dragonrider's community and contains many weyrs. A weyrling is a young dragon or the rider of a young dragon (first three years). Impression is when a new-hatched dragon imprints on the best person to take care of them among those assembled through an empathic and telepathic bond. That person becomes their rider._

* * *

The next month virtually flew by, with the Potters, their collective friends, and several members of the staff all helping to build two brand new temporary buildings. The Hatching Ground was a simple hexagonal building with a heated stone foundation, a sand pit, a cooled bamboo walkway and an office. The walls were decorated with Pernese dragons in gold, bronze, brown, blue and green. The eggs were already in the sand, gently hardening their way toward maturity. The other building was to be the weyrling quarters. Albus would ask every Candidate to live there with their dragon until they were old enough to learn how to fly so that they could all learn how to take care of their dragons together. It was wood and stone, neutrally decorated and comfortably appointed. The house elf Guney, who was Dobby's son, was assigned to the Weyr for as long as it was standing. He was proud of his heritage and chose to follow in his father's footsteps by aiding Harry Potter's children. There were thirty-two weyrling suites of four rooms each; a bedroom, a bathroom, a sitting room, and a weyr.

Aunt Hermione, who was still the acknowledged research queen of Gryffindor, dug into the two major problems that the new species was going to face first; the Department For the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and the need to bring in Candidates for Impression. The first problem would stem from the second, as Albus and Hermione both started sending out advertisements to people who had tested well in areas such as Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, as well as superb duelists. There were other conditions, as well, that Albus considered important, such as age. A rider would need to be old enough to mature with his or her dragon, but the dragon would be full grown at the age of three, so they chose not to let anyone under the age of fifteen stand on the sands. Conversely, Albus decided not to let anyone over the age of twenty-one stand as a Candidate, so as to give the dragons a guaranteed long life.

Owls were answered in plenty, and Albus was soon very glad that all of his coursework for the year was completed, because he was kept very busy in scheduling interviews in which he would test the mental abilities of the prospective Candidates. But it soon became obvious that not all the owls had been received well, because it didn't take long at all for the Ministry to become aware of the clutch of hardening eggs at Hogwarts, and for the head of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau to come to the school. His name was Tier Verderben, and though he was unfailingly polite, his emotions were plain, and he had every intention of bringing the full force of the Ministry against Albus and the dragons.

Professor McGonagall escorted Verderben to the Hatching Ground and to its office, where Albus was busily scheduling interviews. With no preliminary, Verderben said, "Good day, Mr. Potter. I'm here to remove your illegal dragon eggs and to place you under arrest for dragon breeding."

Albus barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He had to keep this professional, or he was sure to lose. It might be laughable to him, but to Verderben, it was most serious. "Professor? Is Mrs. Weasley still on the grounds?"

"Yes, she is."

"Good. Mr. Verderben, Hermione Weasley is my family's solicitor. As she is so readily available, I think we can wait to have this conversation until she is present, don't you?"

Verderben raised an eyebrow, but said, "Very well."

Professor McGonagall put her wand to her throat and said, "Sonorous!" Then with her voice booming across the highlands, she said, "Mrs. Weasley, please return to the Hatching Ground immediately." She nullified the spell, then looked at Albus's desk. "How is the scheduling coming?"

"It's good. I've still got two or three to pencil in, and one I really want to follow up on. She's one of the best diviners to come out of Hogwarts in a century, and I'd like to bring her in, but I got a polite 'no'. I'm thinking of going to meet her if it's all right with you. I only hope I have enough time. It's been a month, and I really don't know how long it takes."

Not oblivious to the entire subject at hand, Verderben said, "Dragon gestation usually takes about six months."

Albus snorted. "These aren't most dragons. But we have agreed to wait on this matter until Mrs. Weasley arrives."

"And arrive she has." The two standing people turned to see Hermione come in. "Good afternoon, Tier. What can I do for you?"

"This boy says you are his family's solicitor. As he is being placed under arrest for dragon breeding and you were close at hand—"

"Ah. Well, let me assure you, my nephew has not been breeding dragons. He has simply been trying to see to their survival. The potion he was brewing was intended for human consumption, but was ruined by another young man, whose name I will not be giving you. That young man didn't intend for this to happen either; he merely meant to destroy Albus's work, an act of bullying, not dragon breeding."

Here, Hermione seemed to have lost Verderben. "Potion?"

She shook her head. "Did your source not even give you the letter they had been sent? You were going to arrest him on so little corroboration?"

"I had notices from three different people saying that Mr. Potter was selling dragon eggs."

Albus ground his teeth. "I'm not selling anything. Let me tell you, then, how these dragon eggs came to be. I was working on my final in Potions. A fool wanted to destroy that work, so he threw my book, a fictional work about fictional dragons, into the cauldron. But I am an empath. A psychic imprint was left in the pages, and along with the words, that imprint was absorbed by the lizard eggs which were part of the potion. The lizard eggs were changed, and became the dragon eggs that are out there hardening on the sand."

Now Verderben's eyebrows had shot into his hair. "Then the reason you don't know the gestational period—"

"Is because the author never mentioned it. But I doubt it will take as long as a natural dragon. Cues from the story point to two months or so, not six. In the tale, the event which spurred their creation from smaller, dragon-like creatures happened thirteen weeks before they were done, matured and hatched, and it probably took that first month to not only figure out how to change them, but exactly what to change." Albus straightened in his chair. "Now, just because these are the creation of a Potions accident doesn't mean that they aren't real, or that they won't be exactly as they were depicted. I know for a fact, because of my empathic gift, that they are sentient beings. I can sense nascent emotions from them, as I can't with unborn animals. I barely get any readings at all from animals, even when they are mature. I'm just not that good with them. But I _can_ sense the emotions of unborn humans and other beings. I discovered this when one of the house elves that works in Gryffindor Tower was pregnant. I congratulated her, and she got all flustered and shy. She hadn't even told her mate.

"Knowing what I do about the story these dragon eggs came from, I'm doing what I can to ensure their survival. You see, one of the changes that the people in the story made was that, at birth, instead of imprinting on their own kind, say on their mother, the dragons would make Impression with a human. The two beings would be inseparable for the rest of their lives, as Impression is an empathic and telepathic bond. I'm trying to get enough people here that the dragons will find someone suitable to Impress when they are born. And the reward mentioned in my letters is not monetary. If one is so lucky as to Impress a dragon, they will spend the rest of their lives knowing for fact that they have one person in their lives who will never doubt them, who will always love them, no matter their flaws."

Silence reigned in the office for a few moments while Verderben thought about what he'd been told. His emotions, which had at first been cold satisfaction, had turned more turbulent. Ire directed at Hermione was weakening, and anger at dragon breeders was fading as he realized that Albus was not such a person. Curiosity had bloomed, as well, but it was small, and Albus doubted that it would amount to anything. He guessed that the man had been injured by an illegal dragon at some point, which had prompted his hostility.

Finally, Verderben said, "You're a very articulate young man, and you plead your case well. All right. I don't believe that you are guilty of dragon breeding. You say that this species isn't dangerous to humans, and for now we'll go along with that. After all, they are still in the egg. But you'll need to keep in contact with the Magical Beings division. This is a strange case. They'll probably want copies of that book, along with any others you think they might find helpful and any notes you've made. I can't guarantee they'll go along with your assessment, either, or even mine. You can probably expect to hear from our department again. Good evening, Mr. Potter, ladies." With that he turned and left the Hatching Ground, glancing once at the eggs as he left.

Then Albus breathed a quick sigh of relief. "That might not be the end of it, but at least we have some time."

Hermione shook her head. "Very little. He'll have to report to his superior, Oedipus Fowl, head of the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and when he does, someone else will probably be sent out here. You need to get confirmation of the Candidates as soon as possible."

"I know." He sighed, looking down at the list of possibles he was working from. "I really need to talk to this one in person."

"Who is it?"

"Moria McCanaly, professional Diviner. She doesn't look into the future often, but finds missing things and people instead. Best Divination scores in half a century on her NEWTs, and something tells me she'd be a good rider. But she doesn't say why she's declining in her refusal."

Professor McGonagall said, "This is a Hogsmeade weekend. There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to go visiting during that time, provided your parents approve."

"All right. I'll owl them immediately." Albus turned to Hermione. "Thanks for helping me with him. We've got close to a month left before the eggs start Hatching to fend them off. Then, at least, they'll be safely Impressed by capable witches and wizards who can defend them."

* * *

Moria McCanaly didn't sit in a tearoom full of incense, crystal balls and frilly cushions. She had a professional office, and she had both wizard and Muggle clients. To the Muggles, she presented as a private detective, and was even licensed as one. Her wizarding clients came to her for her gift, for her ability to find things by scrying. If she had ever dabbled in predictions, no one knew it, or how accurately she could predict. She just didn't use that part of Divination.

Albus walked into that office and sat in the small reception area, an eight by eight anteroom with a single cushioned office chair. He'd made an appointment before he came, hoping that his name wouldn't startle her. The receptionist had simply taken down his name and told him to wait.

It was nearly half an hour before she told him to go into the office, but once he entered the office, his empathy was able to pick up on the single occupant's agitation before she put up a very strong Occulmensy shield, which he was glad of. She motioned to a seat and said, "What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

Albus took a deep breath to calm his nerves. This would be the first time he had actually talked to one of the people he had pegged as Candidates. "I wanted to know why you turned down my offer to become a dragonrider."

She raised an eyebrow. "You were serious about that?"


	4. Assault

Dragonriders, Part 1

Chapter 4: Assault

_Notes: Thanks to Weyrwoman for that song. I was concentrating on Dragonsdawn, and forgot. And thanks to everyone else for your reviews!_

* * *

Albus said, "I wanted to know why you turned down my offer to become a dragonrider."

Moria McCanaly raised an eyebrow. "You were serious about that?"

Albus just looked at her for a moment, then chuckled. "You thought it was a prank?" She nodded. "Well I assure you, I was being serious. I was brewing a certain potion, and someone threw a book into the potion. The dragons in the book were conceived by the potion, and the eggs are now hardening on the miniature Hatching Ground I've built at Hogwarts to accommodate them."

A thought seemed to cross Moria's mind. She reached for a book that was on the shelf beside her. Albus recognized it; _Dragonquest._ "The dragons of Pern?"

He smiled. "Yes. First generation size, I'm sure. It was _Dragonsdawn_ that got thrown in. I don't know if they will only be the top three colors, though. For some reason, I think all five are there." He frowned, thinking about why he thought that. "It's my empathy. I'm so in tune with the eggs—well, that's neither here nor there. I asked you to be a Candidate because you've shown what mediwizards call a magically enhanced psychic tendency. In your case, that's your abilities as a scryer. But anyone with MEPT who's between fifteen and twenty-one is on my list, so long as they're not a criminal or something."

Moria sat back, staring at the cover of her book, thinking. After a few moments, she looked up at him. "I—I thought it was a dream. It couldn't have been real because these dragons don't exist. But it had all the force of a Seer's vision. I was sitting in a saddle on the back of a small queen dragon. I looked over my shoulder to the right and saw three people on brooms. They were firing spells at us. We took a dive that would have made any Quidditch player envious, then flattened out over the surface of the water, the ocean, I think. They caught up, but I started firing spells of my own. I struck one with Incarcerous, and he fell off his broom and into the water. The other two veered off, flanking us. We went _between_, and then I woke up." She sighed. "It happened here at work, thankfully while I was getting ready to go home for the day and didn't have a client in here. I wrote myself a note, as I have always done when a prophecy gets hold of me." She pulled a small slip of paper off the cork-board where she kept all her phone messages and handed it to Albus. It read, _Beware the coming storm, but do not avoid it. You will be needed._

Albus felt a shiver run up his spine. "Sounds like the dragonriders will have trouble down the road." He sighed. "I don't know if I will be one of them. I hope so, but I don't know. You have the advantage over me in this. You know that if you stand as a Candidate, you will Impress. You also know that there will be danger down that path in the future. Above everyone else, you know what you'd be risking." And the thought of that risk chilled him to the marrow. If you lost your dragon, you lost half of yourself. You would try to suicide. If you lived, you would never be whole. If your dragon lost you, they went _between_, and never returned.

Moria was a fan, and she knew that. But a light had come into her eyes, the light of realization and determination. Albus had been banking on this. No real fan would pass up the opportunity to Impress a Pernese dragon. The rewards would far outweigh the risk. "All right. I'll come."

* * *

"I'm still mad at you."

Albus sighed and put his forehead on the desk. "Lily, we've been through this. Not only is it a bad idea, but Mum and Dad would kill me if I let you be a Candidate. You're fourteen, and if you Impressed now, your dragon would fly to mate when you were seventeen. You'll just have to wait for the next Hatching. You'll still be young enough then to Impress, and I won't have to worry that Mum'll knock my head in with her rolling pin."

"James isn't going to be one, either."

"James didn't want to." Their elder brother hadn't wanted the responsibility of caring for a dragon, and Albus hadn't pushed him. It was best if everyone who got involved was fully committed.

They had plenty of people to stand in his place, though. There were Candidates from all over the globe, and they had all come to Hogwarts to await the Hatching. Scorpius and Amelio were on the list, and so was Joshua Caine, a seventh year Ravenclaw. There were people from the other two European schools, from the Middle East, the Far East and the Orient. There were also people from several different countries in Africa, North America and South America. One bloke, Jack Conway, was from Texas and had brought his horse with him, and he refused to walk anywhere he could ride.

"Why are you so worried about that," Lily asked, bringing Albus's mind back to the conversation at hand. "It's not like I'd be getting married or anything."

Albus groaned, and begged fate that their mother had already had the sex talk with her. "Lils, don't you remember what happens to the riders when dragons mate?"

She blushed, but remained stubborn. "So?"

"So that's why Mum, Dad and everyone else in our family would hang me up by my toes and take pot-shots at me if I let you on the grounds at this age. Seventeen is too young to be carrying on like that, especially when it's compelled." Albus stood and put a hand on Lily's shoulder. "When it's your dragon, her needs are all that will matter, and you'll be glad to do what needs to be done, but when it's over she'll be able to forget. You won't." He sighed. "Please, Lily. You're my baby sister."

Lily pouted for a moment or two, but finally caved and sat down. "All right. I'll wait. But I'd better be on your list for next time!"

Relieved, Albus grinned. "You bet."

* * *

As time stretched on from eight weeks to ten and on into twelve, Albus worried more and more. But Ruth Giuseppe from Italy reminded him of a Teaching Song from _Dragonflight_, a song he was chagrined to say that he had forgotten.

"_Rise in glory, Bronze and Gold_

_Dive entwined, enhance the Hold_

_Count three months and more, and five heated weeks_

_A day of glory, in a month who seeks?_

_A flash of silver in the sky_

_With heat, all quickens, and all times fly."_

Three months and five weeks pointed to mid-June, and was about twice the time he had expected, but it let him relax a bit about getting the Candidates in place and the preparations complete.

By July 25th, the guest quarters were full and Albus had moved into the Hatching Ground's office because he couldn't stand to be away from the eggs. Scorpius commented that he wouldn't have been any more broody if they had been his own unborn children, and there was some truth to that. "I do feel responsible for them."

Scorpius shook his head. "Well, according to you, once they've Hatched and Impressed, they won't be your trouble any longer."

"Maybe." But Albus doubted he'd stop worrying about the dragonettes, not until he was sure they'd be safe. He felt restless, nervous.

The two of them were sitting in chairs on the surrounding walk of the Hatching Ground, and with no one else there the small hot building echoed emptily. That made it easy to hear when Hagrid came in behind twelve men, yelling at them. "Ye can't go in there! Yer no' allowed!"

One of the men said, "We're Ministry officials, oaf! We'll do as we please.!"

Albus and Scorpius were both on their feet by the time the men rounded the corner, wands at the ready. Albus dropped his shields and quickly assessed the men's minds. They were here to destroy the eggs and arrest Albus for dragon breeding. Apparently they believed that he had Confunded Tier Verderben, and they had come prepared against a recurrence. But Albus was not so easily defeated, nor was Scorpius.

With his shields down, Albus might have been more vulnerable to other people's emotions, but he was much more able to communicate with other sensitives, such as the people he had been recruiting as Candidates for Impression. _The Hatching Ground is under attack!_ The message sent, he slammed his shields back down and gave his full attention to the men from the Ministry. His voice was a pleasant baritone, but it deepened dangerously as he addressed the officials, his wand aimed at the leader. "That's far enough."

"I am Oedipus Fowl, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and you, Albus Potter, are under arrest for violating the Warlock's Convention of 1709, which outlawed dragon breeding. By my order, these eggs are to be destroyed, and these men are here to complete that task."

"These are sentient beings, sir, not magical creatures, and though magic caused their existence, they are not, in themselves, magical. It was my potion that went wrong, and I have, therefore, taken responsibility for their care, but their creation was accidental. They are not dangerous, and they deserve a chance to be born, to Impress, to live. I won't let you take me, and I won't let you harm them."

Fowl sneered and aimed his wand at the nearest egg, one of the queens, but Albus was quicker. The man flew back at his powerful "Expelliarmus!" Simultaneously, twenty other voices echoed the disarming spell and the other Ministry thugs were disarmed. The Candidates who had hard Albus's mental shout had all come running and had arrived in just enough time to defend the young dragons.

Moria was at the head of the mob of Candidates. "Gentlemen, what the hell are you doing?"

"We are exercising our rights and responsibilities as Ministry officials, Miss. You are attacking representatives of your government!"

"No, we are disarming unknown individuals executing an attack on sentient creatures of magical birth. You must first prove that you are ministry officials, and you must then prove that the creatures you are executing are dangerous and non-sentient. As they are eggs, I doubt you can prove that they are dangerous. I know the law, Mr. Fowl. You wouldn't want to be sentenced to Azkaban for murder, would you?" At their silence, she said, "Stand down. Your wands will be returned to you as you leave the Hatching Ground, but you will be watched until you reach the Apparation Barrier to make certain that you leave."

The thick silence endured while Fowl stood there, fuming. But his team were only twelve men. There were at least twenty people standing there, and more could be seen gathering outside the building, and they currently had no wands. "You'll regret this, Potter." He turned and stalked out of the Hatching Ground, quickly followed by his men.

With him out of sight, Albus relaxed a little. Amelio grinned at him. "What is it with your family and the Ministry?"

Albus would have given him an appropriately scathing answer, but in the space between one moment and the next, a distinct crack could be heard, and all eyes turned toward the eggs, one of which had split clean down the middle.


	5. Hatching

**Dragonriders, Part 1**  
Chapter 5, Hatching

_Notes: I've been through three computers. I've moved twice. I've lost several dogs and gained a cat. My life is insane! But I never forget my characters and my readers. _

_About names: Male Dragonriders' names get contracted by their dragons into an honorific, so that's why the names are going to change. In the books, sometimes it was the Weyr who did the contracting and sometimes it was the dragons. The dragons' names all end in "th" because that's how they were in the books. _

_Please enjoy, and review!_

* * *

_The eggs were Hatching!_ "Scorpius, go unlock the stasis lockers. Hagrid, could you get Professor McGonagall, please? The rest of you get onto the sands. Cast a cooling charm on your feet. I'll shout for the Candidates who didn't hear me earlier."

Albus knew now why he had been so nervous and distracted. The dragonettes were ready to hatch and were getting restless in their shells! He went outside and cast "Sonorous!" His voice amplified, he then shouted, "All Candidates to the Hatching Ground! All Candidates to the Hatching Ground immediately! The Hatching has begun!" Then he nullified the spell and ran back into the Hatching Ground himself.

The Ground was chaotic, but they'd all drilled on this moment, and every Candidate knew what to do. Albus saw that first egg break open, revealing the ungainly form of a tiny bronze dragon. His head was almost the same size as his torso and overall he was about the size of a German Shepherd. His facetted eyes were swirling in a rainbow of green and yellow as he squawked and took an unstable step out of his egg, looking around expectantly, looking for someone to Impress on. His eyes finally lit on an eighteen-year-old graduate of Beaubaxton's named Samuel d'Lion. The youth looked back at the young dragon and said wonderingly, "He says his name is Toth!"

The absent Candidates came running almost as one into the Grounds and got into their places. Eggs were breaking left and right, and Impressions were quickly being made. It was going quickly, but thanks to the drilling, none of the Candidates were accidentally injured.

Albus continued looking on in wonder. The dragonettes were ungainly things, but they were beautiful as only the very young could be. The emotions of the room were pounding against his shields, but it was joyous, and he welcomed it. Moira McCanaly had happy tears rolling down her face, as she announced her Impression with the fourth of the young queens, Mandeth. And then, Albus felt an even more insistent pounding against his shields, one of intent and need. He looked down at his feet and saw a lovely young bronze. He looked into the creature's rainbow eyesﾗand then fell into them. Love and acceptance flooded across his shields as if they were nothing, and a voice sounded in his mind, saying, _I am Seth. You are Al'us and I love you!_

Al'us couldn't help but sink to the sand at the power of the little dragon's mind, and the power of his love. "Oh, Seth! I never imagined!"

_Never imagined what?_

"How big a dragon's love was."

_It must be very big, then. Can we eat, now?_ His hunger from being in the egg began coloring his emotions.

Al'us chuckled. "Of course, Seth. Of course." And he led the young dragon to the meat bowls.

* * *

No one noticed him come into the Hatching Ground. He was curious, just like the rest of Hogwarts, and he couldn't help but sneak in and try to see what was going on. He saw the few remaining eggs, rocking and cracking, and he saw the baby dragons, wobbly and flightless. Then he saw the one who had got away from the others. He looked down and saw the little creature's smooth brown hide, the pair of wings that would presumably grow to a flight-worthy size, and the swirling, multi-colored eyes. Then he heard the voice, felt the emotions. _My name is Saulth. I love you, Cord, and I always will!_

From across the room, Potter shouted at him. "Zabini! What are you doing?"

Suddenly guilty, Cord nevertheless stood firmly beside his dragon. "I was just curious. I didn't knowﾗdidn't expectﾗMerlin! My father is going to kill me."

Saulth sat up on his haunches, his eyes whirling angrily. _I will protect you!_

Cord smiled fondly, despite himself. "It's all right." He sighed. "I know I owe you an apology, Potter. But I'm not really sorry that this happened. I'm sorry I ruined your work."

Al'us shook his head. He knew that Impression could change people, but he'd never have expected an apology from Cord Zabini. This was going to complicate things. "My father has always said that love is the most powerful force on the planet. I think we're all finding out how true that is now. For the rest of your life, you're going to have a true friend, someone who you'll never need worry that he'll betray you. But your dragon won't erase your free will or your personality. You're still you, and you still have choices."

Cord nodded. "I can see that." He turned to his dragon. "Well, let's get you fed, little one. How long do these dragons live?"

"As long as their rider. We've got a lot of learning to do, all of us. My imagination about the dragons influenced their creation, but that doesn't mean that I know everything about them. For instance, the thing that the dragons in the books were meant to fight doesn't exist here, so they may never reach the numbers that those dragons did. Also, to produce fire, they have to have phosphine-bearing rock to chew, which they don't do until they're two-and-a-half to three years old. We don't have that stone here. I've been thinking of trying to concoct something in the labs. But there's time enough for that." He sighed. "Our biggest problems are going to come from the rest of the Wizarding world. The dragon-breeding laws, you know. We're going to have to work to get our dragons separate status under the law, or we're going to be hunted."

Cord's eyes narrowed at the thought of someone hurting his dragon. "Has anyone spoken with Rolf Scamander yet? He's just been made the head of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau. If anyone is likely to be convinced of the difference between a sentient and non-sentient dragon, it would be him, not to mention that he needs to be informed of the new species."

Al'us nodded. "You're right about that. We haven't talked to him yet. I'll see about getting us an appointment, myself and several of the others who have read the Dragonrider books. Thanks for that." He saw the little brown dragon's eyes returning to a more normal orange red; the color of hunger, and he grinned. "Come on, let's get this little one fed."

* * *

The Hatching complete, the new Dragonriders took stock and counted themselves. Four queens had Hatched, giving the species a decent start. Six bronzes, seven each of brown and blue, and eight greens made up the rest of the Hatching, and the riders were literally from all over the world. Of course, a large number were from Europe, but there were people from every continent. Those Candidates who had not Impressed were welcomed to stay in the temporary Weyr in their current quarters if they wanted to stick around and help out with the young dragons.

Al'us owled several Ministry officials, including Rolf Scamander, Oedipus Fowl as Head of the DRCMC, and Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, inviting them and their immediate subordinates to come and meet the weyrlings. He also owled Hermione again, and his parents. He wanted his family to meet Seth. The little bronze dragon, now asleep in his dragon bed with a very full belly, had suddenly become the most important thing in his life, and the rest of the family needed introducing.

With a smile on his face and awe in his heart at Seth's beautiful, innocent mind, Al'us drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Al'us?_ The young wizard woke hungrier than he'd ever felt in his life. What-? _Al'us? Can I eat now?_

Al'us cracked an eye open and glared balefully at Seth, who was sitting on his haunches beside his rider's bed. "I just know the sun isn't above the horizon yet, silly little monster."

_Am I too much trouble? Seth's mental voice was anxious._

Al'us rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "No, Seth. I'm just grumpy in the mornings." He sat up slowly and stretched, knowing now that it was not his own hunger but that of his dragon that he was feeling. "Let's go get some breakfast." _And coffee, definitely coffee,_ he thought.

Al'us went over the events of yesterday's Hatching in his head while he got Seth's share of the raw meat out of the stasis boxes and fed his friend, and as he retrieved his own breakfast from Guney in the kitchen. He wondered at himself taking the honorific so quickly, and realized his personal thought of what his name was had changed the moment Seth had called him Al'us. He wondered how many of the others had changed their names.

Cord walked into the kitchen, just as bleary as Al'us had been. "How long will it be before they stop just eating and sleeping?"

He chuckled. "They'll grow personalities in very short order. They'll be able to fly themselves to hunt within six months, and at one year they can fly with us. Say, did Saulth change your name?"

The Slytherin rider looked at his former enemy in surprise. "He calls me Co'd. How'd you know that?"

"Seth changed mine to Al'us. It was traditional in the books for all the male riders, and I guess it's going to start here." Al'us had a thought. "Um, I made sure that all the Candidates read at least Dragonsdawn before standing on the sands, but I know you've never read it. You're going to have to get caught up with the rest of us, as well as all the learn-as-you-go that we're all doing. The book will give you an idea of your dragon's native environment, and the purpose he would have had in that world. That ultimate purpose doesn't even exist here, so we're going to have to figure out what to do with ours. They aren't pets; they need purpose as much as we do."

* * *

Moira grinned at her beautiful Mandeth as the little queen swam around in the shallows of the lake. The giant squid had yet to try messing with any of the weyrlings who went swimming, so it was considered safe enough if someone kept watch. Mandeth was chasing fish. _They are slippery!_

"They are wet." It had been a week, and as predicted, though the weyrling dragons still ate huge amounts of meat, they weren't eating as often as when they had just hatched, and they were starting to hunt a little on their own in situations like this.

Al'us walked up beside her. "Morning. How is Mandeth this morning?"

"She's just fine. Apparently, fish are slippery."

They chuckled together at the little comment. Then Al'us moved on to business. "The date's set for the Ministry people to come in and have a gawk. Tomorrow at noon."

Moira nodded. "Do we expect much trouble out of them?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm getting prepared for it, just in case. My parents are coming this afternoon to visit us and several others."

"Your brother and sister?"

"And Professor Longbottom, and Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid, and even Guney. But especially Seth. This will be the first time they meet him. I know Dad supported what I was doing in keeping the dragons alive, but I really want him to like Seth, you know?"

Moira smiled at the sixteen-year-old's nervousness. "I don't think there will be any problem with that. All the dragons are thoroughly loveable, and they're much prettier than they were when they Hatched."

Al'us chuckled. Pernese dragons weren't born beautiful-they had to grow into it.

As they finished taking, Mandeth climbed up out of the lake, and Seth caught up to his rider. S'ius and A'lio came with him and their dragons, brown Joreth and blue Rilleth, respectively. Humphrey the owl also winged in from the direction of the castle with a note in his beak. He dropped the letter to Al'us and then landed on a nearby tree limb. The note said that his parents had arrived. Well, he thought, here goes nothing. "Hi, guys. D'you want to come with me while Seth and I visit with my parents?"

A voice from above them on a broom said, "Don't worry about that. We're already here."

Al'us looked up and saw both his parents flying in on their Firebolts. Both loved flying, and honestly, so did Al'us. He couldn't wait for the year to be up so he could fly his dragon properly! "Dad! Come on in for a landing!"

* * *

Harry landed next to his son, and the small creature that had just become the center of that son's world. Seth looked nothing like any other dragon he'd ever seen. He remembered Norbert very clearly. The Norweigan Ridgeback had been very small at his hatching, but he had been a fully functioning dragon, needing very little help from his excitable human caretaker. This little creature obviously needed Albus, at least right now. Already about the size of a Shetland pony, his head was quite large, though one assumed more normal proportions would come as he grew, triangular and adorned with two knobs, like a giraffe, over his eyes. His bronze hide was not pebbled or scaled, but smooth and soft. His wings were also still very small, again more a sign of his youth than anything else. His forked tail was of a proportion one would expect with the rest of his body. His eyes were the one thing that truly set him apart from other kinds of dragons. They were faceted, like an insect's eyes, but they also had three lids, the usual two and a nictating membrane that blinked more quickly than the outer set. Those eyes were currently swirling in shades of blue and green. Mesmerizing, really.

Albus kneeled down to scratch Seth's head knobs. "Seth, this is my father, Harry Potter. Dad, this is Seth, my dragon."

Harry didn't find any of the expected unconscious seeking of approval that usually colored Albus's speech when he was introducing a completed project. He seemed much more confident, and Harry could only approve of that. "Pleased to meet you, young dragon." He turned to his son. "How are you doing, Albus? I know this can't have been easy for you."

"It's Al'us now, Dad. And we're doing alright. All of us are still getting used to our dragons, and of course they're constantly changing." He paused, then changed tracks. "We've had a lot of problems with the Ministry, though. That's why we've called this meeting today. We're hoping to get things settled down so we can build a Weyr in peace, or even just let the riders go home once their dragons are old enough to travel without worrying that they'll be attacked by the DCRMC."

Harry nodded, agreeing with the preemptive move. But-"Why the name change?"

Al'us smiled tenderly at his dragon. "It's how he wants it. All of the male riders have changed their names that way."

Harry didn't understand, not completely, but he nodded. "As long as you're happy, son." He changed the subject entirely. "Do you want me at this meeting?" He asked the question carefully, not wanting to bruise his son's independence.

But his new confidence in himself had erased that need to prove himself that he'd gained from his father. "You'd be welcome. I don't think we'll need your political clout, but better had than needed."

Harry grinned and let Ginny fuss over her youngest son. He was going to be alright, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

_In Loving Memory  
Anne McCaffery  
4/1/1926 - 11/21/2011  
Our Dragonlady will be sorely missed._


End file.
